


We don't say love like a normal person

by themysticalsong



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates Kaz, he really does. Even more, he hates Alex. He hates her for making him feel all these things. He hates how she looks so adorable, sleepy and in her pajamas when she wakes up in the morning. He hates that smirk gracing her lips when she is teasing him. He hates how she has the capability of reigning over every waking dream he has now; how even mere memory of her perfume, her touch is enough to make him weak in the knees. He hates how her smile, beautiful and ethereal, haunts his every memory, every dream. Above all, he hates his own stupid inability to tell Alex he is in love with her. Instead, he bumbles and fumbles, tripping over nothing and everything, lets her drag him to that stupid flower market she loves so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We don't say love like a normal person

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different take to the prompt I published earlier about Matt watching Macbeth in NYC

 

 

 

"Matt, Matt, one last question."

 

Matt looks at the guy waving his hand to call his attention, and smiles, “Yeah?”

 

Beside him, Karen also turns to look at the asker.

 

"So who have been some of your favourite guest stars that you’ve had on over the years?"

 

He grins. It really should be obvious. With flirtatious comebacks, floral scent and sense of humour, there can be no one else but her. He doesn’t even need to think. His grin broadening, Matt bobs his head, “Kingston! Yeah!”

 

Karen shoots him a quick glance, and adds, agreeing with him, “Alex Kingston, yeah.”

 

She gives him a funny look when he continues to grin like an idiot, but doesn’t say anything. She corners him during the road trip to Vegas. They are in a small café, grabbing lunch and planning for the rest of the day. “So spill.”

 

Matt looks up from his sandwich, confused. “About?”

 

" ‘Favourite kisser? It’s gotta be Kingston’? ‘Favourite guest star? Kingston’?" She mimics him perfectly, and with a raised eyebrow, adds, "Clearly something’s up with you, Smithers. Spill the beans, so to speak."

 

He almost gapes. Kaz has always been so perceptive in a way that only a close friend can be. Sometimes its scary. But he doesn’t want to say much to her. She and Alex had become really close when all of them were in Cardiff. He takes a bite of his sandwich, “You can’t tell me you didn’t like working with Alex? You bounced around with joy when you were told she plays your daughter!”

 

Karen only smirks, “I did. And I never said I didn’t love working with Alex. But I wasn’t the one quoting a poem about the pain of loving someone who lives long way away.”

 

He hates Kaz, he really does. Even more, he hates Alex. He hates her for making him feel all these things. He hates how she looks so adorable, sleepy and in her pajamas when she wakes up in the morning. He hates that smirk gracing her lips when she is teasing him. He hates how she has the capability of reigning over every waking dream he has now; how even mere memory of her perfume, her touch is enough to make him weak in the knees. He hates how her smile, beautiful and ethereal, haunts his every memory, every dream. Above all, he hates his own stupid inability to tell Alex he is in love with her. Instead, he bumbles and fumbles, tripping over nothing and everything, lets her drag him to that stupid flower market she loves so much.

 

But presently hating Karen is enough. He gives her a withering glance, “So? I love that poem; it’s my favourite book. I wasn’t aware quoting ones favourite poem was a crime.”

 

Karen laughs, waggling her finger, “Aw, Smithy, aren’t you adorable pining for your wife?”

 

He scowls, but otherwise remains silent. Something in his expression gives him away, because Karen stops her teasing. “Have you even told her yet?”

 

Matt looks away, picking at his sandwich.

 

"God, you are an idiot, Matt! All this pining? I thought you must have told her by now."

 

His face falls at Karen’s rebuking, “She is with someone, she is happy. I don’t want to lose her friendship, alright?”

 

Karen groans. “You really are dumb. Alex is not seeing anyone anymore. At least not since she filmed your farewell special video.”

 

Matt’s eyes widen at that. “But that was ages ago!”

 

Halting in her tracks, Karen stares at him, “Tell me you didn’t fall out of touch with her because you thought she was seeing someone?”

 

"I-", Matt begins, his eyes everywhere but not looking at Karen. Groaning, Karen whacks his head. "Moron! What were you thinking?!"

 

He stops her before she can hit him again. “What do I do, Kaz?”

 

In past, he would have pouted, but at the moment, there is a seriousness in his eyes and words. Karen speaks, this time, a bit soothingly, “Fine. She will be in New York in June for her play. We are supposed to be in Philly around 20th. May be you can tell her then.”

 

Matt listens intently to Karen, a plan forming in his head, and smiles, “I knew your moonhead was useful for something at least.” Ignoring her indignant swearing, he takes a sip of his drink and winks at Karen, “Thanks, Kaz.”

 

He puts his plan into action the day they return from Vegas. Well, its not really a plan, its just endless hoping and fervently begging to whatever powers that might be controlling his future. His manager could easily get it for him, but he doesn't want anyone knowing, so Matt tries to get the tickets himself. With limited knowledge of internet, online purchasing doesn't work. He doesn't want Kaz or Lor knowing what's up, and Arthur is close to Alex. He tried not to feel offended when Alex went to watch Arthur's play, but never came to watch his. And he definitely wasn't jealous. Nope.

 

Nagging Arthur being out of question, Matt resorts to using his own connections, and finally secures two tickets- one for 21st and another for 22nd of June. 

 

Tickets secure in his wallet, Matt leaves for Cannes, mighty impatient to get done with it as soon as possible. He spends a few days with his family when he returns from Cannes, the thought about telling Alex finally constantly in his mind.

 

In Philadelphia, he tries to talk and joke with fans, his nerves a bit too excited for New York. Karen shows him links to the reviews of the play. He scrolls through all of them, devouring every word. He grins with incredible pride, because Alex is truly an amazing performer and every word said about her rings true. No matter how much he may talk about Karen being the sexiest, there is no one as beautiful and amazing as Alex. He tries not to feel too jealous when he reads about the kiss and Macbeth hiking up his wife's skirt, pinning her to the front bench, and Alex tugging at Sir Ken's kilt. He tries, but its difficult. He wasn't joking when he said he was possessive over Alex and jealous of other man getting to touch his wife. Well, not his wife exactly, but a man is allowed to dream. And he really does get jealous.

 

When he reaches new York, his first instinct is to rush to the Armory in hopes to see her. It excites him; it scares him. Instead, he makes his way to the hotel with an outward calm. He mentally thanks Karen's nosiness because she has found him a hotel not far away from where Alex is staying for the duration of the run. He tries to sleep, but the thought of meeting Alex, the insanely maddening fact that she is only a few blocks away from him keeps him awake throughout the night.

 

In the morning, however, he feels unusually negative about things. Its a simple thing. he hasn't had enough sleep, and his mind is running a mile a minute, but he can't help but think how Alex would react at his confession. He doesn't think his heart could handle the rejection, but he doesn't want to lose her either. He will try his best to continue being her friend.

 

As the hours pass, his nervousness grows. He checks and rechecks his hair. He looks at his chosen suit for hours with a wrinkled nose. Its a grey one, similar to what he had worn in Cannes, only because Alex had texted him, probably after someone had shown her the pictures making rounds on the internet, telling him how dashing he looked in that suit. He grins at his own reflection, throwing a passing glance at his watch.  _Fuck._

 

Rushing out, he makes a stop at a florist's to buy a bouquet of her favourite flowers., stopping short when he realises he really doesn't know what flowers she likes. Matt ends up buying every pretty flower he likes that reminds him of Alex. Apparently not happy with his choice, florist just looks at him warily as Matt makes his own bouquet.

 

A volunteer helps him find his seat when he reaches the venue. Matt grins when he spots Alex lighting candles at the altar. Her back is towards the audience, nonetheless he feels drawn to her. Like a moth to a flame. She could burn him, break him so bad, but he wants this chance. He wants to tell her how he feels and leave it all up to her. He would be lying if he said Alex didn't have his heart from the moment she smiled up at him at the beach, even if merely assuring him about his own skills.

 

His heart jumps in his chest when she turns to the audience, thudding loudly, fluttering madly when she smiles, skips and runs, blood rushing into his ears when Ken kisses her. Matt tells himself its only just a play, only Macbeth and Lady Macbeth kissing and getting, well, amorous on stage, but the burn doesn't go away. He scowls until the scene changes.

 

After the curtain call, he almost shoots out of his seat, running towards the backstage. An assistant directs him to Alex's room, but only after he signs a dozen autographs. Fans who recognize him, stop him for pictures, and he reluctantly obliges. By the time he finally reaches the long gallery, his veins are full of adrenaline. He waits just at the turn, thinking and re-thinking what he is going to say, when the door opens, revealing Alex dressed in a comfortable shirt and a pair of trousers. Before he could even move his eyes off her, Sir Ken steps out of his room too. He doesn't even stop the melancholic feeling from rising in his chest when the other man winds an arm around Alex's waist, and laughing they move together to the other side.

 

He leaves the flowers in her dressing room, but takes the small card attached to them away.

 

Back in his room, he stares at the card in his hand. Goes over his strategy. Karen calls, but he ignores it. He doesn't need her scottish screech to tell him what he already knows. He'll try again.

 

The next evening, he makes sure to meet Sir Ken first. He will never tell this to Alex, but he manages to get himself invited to the afterparty later on.

 

He nervously runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at his lapels the moment he spots the mass of curls in the crowd, and his internal voice, suspiciously sounding like Karen's pushes him on with a, "Good luck, soldier!"

 

She is talking to some crew member at the moment, a drink in her hands, when he leans into her, "Hello, Kingston."

 

Alex almost jumps in surprise. When she turns to face him, he is surprised to see the stunned look on her face. "What? No 'Hello, darling', no hugs? I may have to begin pouting, Kingston. And its not nice to make a man pout in public."

 

She continues to stare at him, something flashing in her expression, "What are you doing here, darling? I didn't know you were coming."

 

"Am I not allowed to see your pretty face from time to time?" He smiles, his insides churning at the look in her eyes even as he tucks a curl behind her ear.

 

Alex laughs softly, nervously, "I didn't say that, darling. It's just that you never-", she stops mid sentence, and then continues, "Anyways, how is every thing going on?"

 

She is smiling, but it stings. His heart breaks into a million pieces, a million butterflies fluttering and dying at his feet, but he smiles back, "Yeah, everything's fine."

 

He continues finding reasons to talk to her, to be around her throughout the party, his heart aching when he hears her strained laughter, reads the tight lines around her eyes. It hurts, but he is not going anywhere until he tells her. But its difficult to stand beside her, watch others flirt with her and hear the strained notes of her smile.

 

He is nursing a drink at the bar when Alex finds him.

 

"I thought you must have gone by now. Didn't know you were still here."

 

He looks up from his drink, stares at her, and turns back to his drink, "I should. Probably. Filming begins soon. Lots of cons to do before that."

 

"Then why are you here?"

 

Her words a mere whisper, but he hears them loud and clear. knocking back his drink, he looks up at her, "Because I'm an idiot."

 

She flinches, but her eyes are soft, a gentle caress against his skin, his heart. "Matt-"

 

He shakes his head, "I'm here because I wanted to see you, Alex. I wanted to apologise for being an ass. I'm here, because I'm an idiot who has been in love with you; who has been shouting it out to the world but is afraid of telling you."

 

When he finally stops, Alex blinks at him, a tear sliding down her face, "You didn't say anything when I was last there."

 

"There's just one answer in the whole wide world, Alex- I'm an idiot. A jealous, possessive idiot. You were with someone, and it hurt too much to say anything", he quietly admits and Alex laughs, a watery sound that washes over his heart, giving him some hope.

 

Her eyes move over his face, and she asks, "Then why now?"

 

Its now or never. He has already told her he loves her, and she hasn't slapped him or run away. Matt takes her hand in his, his thumbs moving over her knuckles, and without looking up, whispers in a soft voice, "Because not saying hurt even more."

 

"Its good then, isn't it?" Alex clears her throat, and his heart somersaults in his chest at the return of her mischievous smile. "Wh-What?"

 

"I'm an idiot, too, darling."

 

 

 


End file.
